I had such a blah day today. And that makes me sad because it's Friday.
First, for the past two days I have had the worst flu. Yesterday I was throwing up and had a fever and sore throat.
This morning, I woke up with no fever, but my throat felt like it had razor blades in it. So Rian made me this Mexican hot cocoa, which we picked up from Little Mexico a few weeks ago. It tasted like dirt. No matter how many sugar cubes I put in it, I could not keep it from tasting like soil. And then I looked at the box and found out the dirt drink had cost me 400 calories.
And then I went out to lunch with fellow reporter friend Meredith. The pizza parlor was busy, but Meredith got her slice after 25 minutes. I eventually got mine after one hour and thirty minutes. And that was after continually asking the waiter about it. And he had the nerve to act irritated every time I asked about my pizza. And what's even more ironic is that Meredith ordered the fancy Greek slice, which has olives and feta cheese and onions, etc. Mine was just plain pepperoni. And then when I got my pizza, it was cold and gross and the crust was burnt. I still feel nauseous from it.
And my afternoon at work was miserable because I was feeling dizzy from my cold medicine and nauseous from the pizza and depressed because of my measly salary.
Oh, and then my friend, Ahmad, had the audacity to be mad at me this afternoon because I refused to pick up a package tomorrow for him at a post office 45 minutes away from my apartment and drive it an additional two hours to him in St. Joseph. Because I'm a fucking UPS delivery man, right? Hell no.
Gawd, I hope this weekend kicks ass. Or I'm going to have to pull a Garbo.